


People will talk

by BillyTheSkull



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:30:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillyTheSkull/pseuds/BillyTheSkull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We look like an old couple when we do that"</p>
            </blockquote>





	People will talk

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fic, hope you enjoy it.

The weekend was near. It was only early November, but the streets and pavements were already covered into a white coat of snow. The rooftops and trees looked magical, as if they had been dusted with icing sugar by fairies. John liked the winter. Everything was calm and white and wonderful.

He turned around when Sherlock bursted through the door, hair and coat wet from melted snow and his face rather frustrated. "Nothing" he said, dangerously quiet, "What is the matter with a murder or something in this time of the year, it seems like the weather is the only one who still knows that winter isn't only Christmas! It's horrible." He dropped his coat on the floor and himself in his armchair and let out an angry sigh. John smiled amusedly and sat down facing the other man. 

"We're not going to do this again, are we? Sherlock, it's actually good news that there aren't many crimes." The detective rolled his eyes and his flatmate could already hear every word he was about to say. It was every year the same. "I can't just sit here and do nothing the whole day like you, John. I need to be busy! You probably can't understand that, but-" "I do understand you, but I can't hear it anymore, do you realize we had exactly this conversation last year too? Why don't you visit Mycroft or something that normal people do?" 

Sherlock stared at John as if he had suggested to establish a boy band. His grey eyes rested on the soldiers face. John leaned forwards and faced the floor, because he feared that the detective's eyes could burn their way straight to his brain, to the place where all his wishes and desires rested. He just wanted to say something to end the silence, when Mrs. Hudson came in, with a mood brighter as the sun over the clouds. Her smile wasn't usually that wide, though, but John didn't want to know it. The landlady already told him several details of her former marriage, which nobody who ever entered this flat would have wanted to know.

"Boys, you're not going to sit here the entire day, are you?" She went into the kitchen and even though John couldn't see her, he knew that she gestured dramatically her disgust over the current state of the kitchen table. Sherlock had been experimenting. Mrs. Hudson positioned herself between their armchairs and looked from one to the other. Sherlock finally took his eyes from John. The way he looked at his landlady was the most annoyed one the doctor had ever seen and he wondered where they would have ended up if she hadn't come in. Mrs. Hudson didn't care about being stared to whatever, she just lifted the coat from the floor and handed it to Sherlock.

"You both go outside, NOW" she said with a voice that didn't allow any argument and Sherlock really got up and put it on. John almost jumped up and got his jacket; when even Sherlock did what someone told him to do, he better did the same.  
It was freezing cold outside. John buried his hands in his pockets and looked up to Sherlock. He didn't look like he was cold. Looking around, the doctor thought about what he could do, when Sherlock's elbow poked softly his arm. "Hungry?" he asked. John wasn't really, but it was quite the time for dinner and he didn't have a better idea. He nodded gladly and followed Sherlock down the street.

They went into a restaurant where they ate once when they were on a case, in Chinatown. John wondered if Sherlock remembered or picked it randomly, with his system with the doorknobs. They took a table on the window and Sherlock actually ordered food for himself too. John wasn't sure if he was halfway dreaming, but Sherlock also even ate it. The last time John had seen Sherlock eat something was when he was ill for a week and it was only soup. Sherlock's eyes flicked up suddenly and the eye contact woke up some insects in the doctor’s stomach.

"Not hungry, suddenly?" the detective's deep voice got deep down into John. Fast he grabbed his fork. "Yes, I mean, no, no. Still hungry." He blushed and decided to better concentrate at eating now. Sherlock also kept silent for the rest of the dinner, but John felt his look the one or the other time.  
They got home silently. John didn't talk because he didn't know anything uncontroversial to say and Sherlock just wasn't the type for endless small talk. In 221B he made some steps around, doing nothing specific, ad his flatmate escaped into the kitchen. 

"Tea?"

"No, thanks"

John also wasn't really in the mood for tea, so he came back and clenched his hands to fists. He didn't know what to do, everything was pretty weird. It was like the end of a very awkward date. 

"Do... you still need to do something?"

"Hm?" Sherlock looked like he didn't know what to answer, as if his mind palace had everything inside except the existence of this particular question.

"We could- I still play this name-guessing-game sometimes with my sister when I visit her and we're bored." John didn't know what he was talking about. He felt so incredibly stupid about suggesting that, but mow he couldn't change it. Sherlock's reaction quite surprised him.

"How are the rules?"

"You pin a name to the other ones forehead and then you have to guess the name on your own. Only yes- or no-questions. But if you don't want to, we can-"

"Nononono, it's fine" Sherlock went to his desk to get a set of sticky notes and handed one to John. They wrote down a name and when John put it onto Sherlock, the detective leaned forward.

His little grin made the blogger feel even smaller than he actually was. They sat down, with sticky notes on their foreheads, and John stared on the name he gave Sherlock to guess, to avoid eye contact. Sherlock's note said "Sherlock Holmes". 

"Am I a man?" Sherlock began.

"Yes."

"Am I... dead?"

"No" John answered and caught himself being surprised that Sherlock hadn't been murdered yet. "Okay. Am I a man?"

"Yes"

"Am I alive?"

"No"

When John tried to think of any dead male famous people Sherlock could know, he only got a couple of scientists. Chemistry was Sherlock's personal strength. Who again was a chemist? 

"So I am a man and alive. Am I clever?"

"Yes. Probably not as clever as you think, but still more intelligent than normal people."

"Am I my brother? He's terribly bigheaded. Always right." 

John giggled a little. Mycroft and Sherlock were so similar and Sherlock didn't seem to notice. "No, you're not Mycroft. But close. Okay... am I a man?"

"No" Sherlock's voice was so calm and serious that it went into wonderful depth. "I'm me." he said. The detective smiled satisfied before John could say Yes. The doctor relied on his elbows. He slipped slightly in his flatmate's direction. "I guess I won't get mine, as clever as you are?" 

"Well..." He pulled off John's note and faced it seriously. John couldn't stand that. It was like he sat opposite a machine again, which couldn't show anything but a serious face. He reached around Sherlock's neck, slowly, to see if there was any reaction in the other man. There wasn't. Even when John moved closer and their noses almost touched, the detective's face was blank. The soldier kept moving closer, opened his mouth a little and kissed Sherlock softly. After some pretty awkward moments he pulled away. 

"What was that?" There was confusion in Sherlock's eyes and it was so adorable that John just went for it again. This time Sherlock followed John's movements, pressed their mouths together and kissed the doctor back. It followed a couple unsure and careful kisses, before Sherlock pulled away. "Can we discuss this later?" he asked. John smiled and took Sherlock's hand before he continued kissing him as an answer.


End file.
